


things take forever

by hellodeer



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M, eh, mas foda-se, this is really shitty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-30
Updated: 2013-04-30
Packaged: 2017-12-10 01:03:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/779989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellodeer/pseuds/hellodeer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Percy Jackson AU that lacks in prophecies and battles, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	things take forever

Merlin’s been at Camp Half-Blood for a week before Arthur and Morgana arrive.

 

“All right, then?” Arthur asks no one in particular, not looking at Merlin, choosing instead to focus his gaze on the wood front wall of the Big House.

 

Gaius quirks an eyebrow. “Everything is fine around here, as you can see. How was your year?”

 

“Boring,” Morgana says before Arthur can even open his mouth, then she smiles at Merlin sitting on the floor. “Come, Merlin, let’s go find Gwen. I have lots to tell you both.”

 

Merlin tightens his hold around his knees a bit, watches Arthur. Arthur glances his way and their eyes meet; Arthurs flushes, embarrassed, then looks away.

 

Merlin thinks, “fine”, feeling angry and bitter, wanting to shout at Arthur and _demand_ he looks at Merlin, wanting to call him a prat and grab him by his stupid jacket and—

 

He gets up from the porch, follows Morgana to the edges of the forest where Gwen is probably picking flowers, doesn’t look back.

 

*

 

That night at dinner Merlin is sitting with Will and the other children at the Hermes table

 

(“It’s been _years_ , and you’re the most powerful of all of us,” Arthur had said the only time they talked about it, frowning at Merlin like he couldn’t understand how someone could not want him. “Why won’t he claim you?”

 

“You know why,” Merlin told him, looking up at the sky, feeling the soft breeze around him and the sun shining down on him like they loved him. They did.

 

Arthur’s face went soft then. “Yeah, I know why. And it’s pegasus’s shite if you ask me; he should be proud.”

 

Merlin, blushing furiously, didn’t say anything back), telling his friend all about what a massive clotpole Arthur is.

 

“Mate,” Will says, after Merlin has been going on for thirty minutes straight. “I know, he’s a bloody arsehole. Do you want me to punch him for you? Because I will.”

 

Will is serious, too; he has never liked Arthur much and he has been punching people who are mean to Merlin since they were eight years old with no idea of why they could see things others couldn’t, why they didn’t fit in, why life was so fucking _difficult_.

 

“No,” Merlin says, smiling at Will. “I appreciate the sentiment but he could kick your pasty ass in a fight anytime.”

 

“He could,” Will nods, then says while chewing with his mouth open. “Bloody prat.”

 

From table 12, Morgana laughs at something Mr. D says, the sound of it traveling across the whole pavilion.

 

*

Three days and still nothing, and Merlin alternates between feeling sad, hurt and very, very angry. He tries talking to Arthur multiple times, but the other boy is all excuses, always busy training or planning or solving problems between his brothers and sisters, always surrounded by his friends, avoiding Merlin at all cost.

 

In the end Merlin spends his time helping Gwen tend to the flowers of Demeter’s Cabin, talking to Morgana about her dreams, training with Gaius a bit (on one memorable occasion Hecate herself comes to the Camp to see Merlin’s progress and Gaius bows his head, says “Mother”, and the three of them spend the afternoon discussing spells and Merlin’s abilities). It all helps get his mind off Arthur but not for a very long time.

 

After dinner on a Thursday in July, Merlin is sitting on the river bank with his trouser legs rolled up to his knees, his feet immersed in the water (it is not his element but it’s familiar enough; it’s the realm of his uncle, who loves him and won’t hurt him) when Arthur flops down next to him.

 

They don’t say anything for a while. Merlin stares at the water, thinks about Gwen and how she used to blush whenever she saw Lance when they were thirteen, about how Lancelot is nothing like Ares but is one of his favorite sons anyway, probably because of that, about how Will used to fall from the top bunk so much he and Merlin had to trade, about how Gwaine laughs openly and freely, like every child of Aphrodite does, about how one’s heart flutters every time one can get a child of Aphrodite to laugh, about how—

 

“Listen, Merlin,” Arthur begins, his voice small, unsure. He stops, takes a deep breath. “Listen—“

 

The first time Merlin saw Arthur he thought he was a son of Aphrodite, and he kept thinking so until the moment he saw Arthur with a sword.

 

Arthur is tanned because it’s summer and he spends a lot of time out in the sun, he can fight anyone and probably win except for maybe Leon, who is the luckiest kid they know because of his mother. He has many brothers and sisters from his mother’s side but only Morgana from his father’s, and that makes her special, and Arthur loves her fiercely, and he is actually very smart, good with numbers and a great strategist, though a bit dense when it comes to his and other people’s feelings.

 

He kissed Merlin last summer, last day of camp. He kissed Merlin then ran off, didn’t write, didn’t call, didn’t return Merlin’s calls. He kissed Merlin and a bloody _year_ later he’s about to apologize and say it was all a mistake or whatever shit, like he has any right to, like Merlin didn’t think about him every day for the past nine months, like he hasn’t been thinking about Arthur since the age of fourteen.

 

“No, _you_ listen, you fucking, gigantic prat,” Merlin says, and above them the sky goes dark. “Who exactly do you think you are? You can’t just kiss one of your best friends and then not talk to them for a year! Have you any idea how that makes me feel? Do you care? No! So don’t you dare,” and here Merlin, eyes narrowed angrily, pokes Arthur in the chest to get his point across. “apologize—“ another poke, more vicious this time. “for kissing— me— Arthur–- Pendragon.”

 

Arthur, too shocked for words, gapes at Merlin for a full thirty seconds. Suddenly all the fight goes out of Merlin, and he just feels tired, disappointed – the sky clears, the black clouds hanging over them disappear, the night goes back to calm and warm, and Merlin pulls away from Arthur with a frustrated sigh.

 

Breaking out of his stupor as if Merlin distancing himself was a trigger of some sort, Arthur holds his wrist, tugs it back over his chest. Arthur’s heart is beating really fast, a thump thump thump against Merlin’s palm.

 

“I was going to apologize, but not for kissing you,” Arthur declares, a look on his face like Merlin’s never seen before, wild and determined and more than a tiny bit hopeful. “Never for kissing you.”

 

Merlin, his heart tap dancing too, his hopes up as well. “For what, then?” he whispers though he already knows, can already feel the hurt heal some.

 

“For being an idiot,” Arthur says, soft, his thumb stroking gently the back of Merlin’s hand. “For running away, for not talking to you for almost a year, for ignoring you since I got here. I know I hurt you and I feel awful. I’m so, so sorry, Merlin.”

 

Merlin remains silent, just looking at Arthur’s face while the other boy looks back.

 

“What were you afraid of?” Merlin asks after a minute or two, when Arthur starts to look troubled.

 

The blond boy shrugs, looks down, embarrassed. He is not used to talking about his feelings, Merlin knows, much less about his _fears_ , which he, based on some Arthur logic nobody else can follow (except, perhaps, Merlin), thinks he is not supposed to have.

 

“You, I guess,” he finally says, voice small. “What I feel for you. That you might not feel the same.”

 

Merlin raises his other hand to Arthur’s hair then, pulls on a lock, hard.

 

“Oi!” Arthur yells, making a face at him, massaging his head. “What was that for?”

 

Merlin grins, his cheeky, happy grin. Arthur, delighted, pain forgotten, grins back.

 

“Because you’re a prat and a clotpole and you deserved it,” Merlin states. “You’re lucky I like you.”

 

Arthur runs his fingers from Merlin’s hand on his chest to Merlin’s arm to his shoulder to the back of his neck, beaming all the while. Merlin puts his hands on Arthur’s hip and they meet halfway.

 

Above them, the sky shakes with lighting and thunder, the sound of it as if the world is breaking in two, except it is actually being mended.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Just in case it wasn't clear, Morgana is the oracle, Leon is a son of Tyche, Arthur's mother is Athena, and Merlin is an unclaimed son of Zeus (i got the idea from [this wonderful fic](http://veritasrecords.livejournal.com/104872.html), by the way, go read itttttttt)


End file.
